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If you like comedy, PR or the occasional inside scoop on the entertainment world,
then drop by for a daily dose written by me, Kambri Crews, producer and publicist to comedians and more!
Tuesday, March 25, 2003
Highlights from this past weekend:
-- Vodka gimlets and strange coincidences.
-- Leather seats warmed by the spring sun.
-- Submitting the winning Oscar ballot...again.
-- Guacamole with Sheila an hour before she flew to Hong Kong and having her leave me a 10 minute tipsy voice mail minutes later from the airport describing every person in the room.
-- Special invitation and free tickets (Thanks Mr. Producer!) to Betty Rules and the "after party" with said Mr. Producer and the rockin' cast.
-- The author of a best selling children's book wanting to submit the stage version to the 4: Your Consideration Art Series.
-- Our Oscar party and dressing up in black & white pinstripe sequin pants that made my ass look (and feel) Dyn-O-Mite.
-- Hours and hours of diligent work on a special gift for a special boy's upcoming 30th birthday.
-- Watching Paquita try to decide whether to play with her ball or stolen panties.
Link - 5:01 PM -
Monday, March 24, 2003
All is fair in love and war.
Does anyone else think it's weird that they have "rules" in war? It’s war. When one country invades another country because the latter is ruled by an "evil" regime, I think it's safe to assume that some of the evil regime aren't going to abide by some guidelines set forth by some of those very countries doing the invading. Is this a no-brainer? I don't know why I wrote this. Never mind.
Link - 11:03 AM -
Saturday, March 22, 2003
Ode to My Fish
O swim alone.
Solo in the round.
No touch or sound
To taste or smell.
O swim alone.
Content as one.
Life to be done
All on your own.
Link - 8:40 PM -
Friday, March 21, 2003
I’m Screwing the Head of CBS and This is the Thanks I Get?
I love these closing paragraphs regarding CBS Anchor Julie Chen in this NY Times article: …Ms. Chen appeared flustered on camera, reading notes and waving her hands (her long fingernails painted white, as if to signal surrender) as she described how the marines in the bunker had helped "keep me calm." and Ms. Chen did not talk to marines on the segment, which mostly showed a tape of her walking across the base in tight white pants and a turquoise T-shirt as if preparing for an invasion of St. Tropez. Good stuff.
Gee, Why Can’t I Be Like Kimberly on Different Strokes?
I just devoured inhaled a burrito the size of my head. It was so delicious I was mmm, mmm, mmm-ing and moaning while chewing. I washed it down with a Caramello and wished I had more. Sometimes I love eating so much that I wish I could vomit start from scratch. That Kimberly Drummond sure was lucky.
Link - 2:53 PM -
Thursday, March 20, 2003
I suppose I should talk about The War. Life isn’t all parties and armoires and home improvement or dates and flowers and my dog. If Hussein is really behind 9/11, then I hope we hunt him down and kill him, but I’m concerned that we’re going against the majority of the UN. It seems as though Bush just has a big boner for Saddam Hussein. I’m most worried about the anti-American backlash and potential for suicide bombers and biological attacks, especially here in New York City and in the subway.
That said, I will still carry on my business as usual wearing an invisible bulls-eye for the same reason I rode the subway and walked to work on September 12, 2001, when much of this City stayed inside: “It is better to die on one’s feet, than to live on one’s knees.” –Delores Ibarruri**
So, fuck you, Mr. Terrorist.
**In the event I am the victim of an attack, somebody please take care of Paquita. She’s very loving and knows 10 tricks in voice and sign language and loves to hump arms. Oh, and Mom, those things in that middle left dresser drawer are not mine. I don’t use them. Nay, in fact, I have no idea how they got there. Please kindly disregard.
Link - 3:24 PM -
Tuesday, March 18, 2003
I lost 10 pounds assembling this computer armoire (scroll down a few pictures to see it) and it’s beautiful! “Some assembly required” my ass. I should be getting the $0.05 an hour they paid that little 5 year old China girl because that bitch didn’t do shit.
I can’t even tell you how amazing it is that I did it alone. I could have killed myself or Paquita. I kept telling myself, “Just wait till someone comes over to help. Don’t do this alone.” But I’m never one to wait on anything I want…you know, like Veruca from Willy Wonka. Anyway, it looks fantastic and is functional to boot. I still have a few things to screw, but my hands look like I’ve been working the chain gain with my dad all day…swollen, red, knicked and scraped…very feminine.
Link - 1:11 AM -
Monday, March 17, 2003
Hard to believe that I got caught in a marching band not once, but twice today. Those wacky St. Patrick's Day Parades, I tell ya! Just lovely having your eardrums blasted and getting jostled by every drunk "Irishman" during your lunch break when you have PMS. Really...you should try it.
Saturday night included a date that brought me flowers (!$@%# This never happens to me!) coordinated to match my new living room (Double &%*$@# How freaking cool is that?) and a stop at a birthday party. I didn’t go to sleep till 6:30 in the morning (gulp) which meant that when my friend of five years, Zach, called me Sunday afternoon I was still in bed. He was rightly ashamed of me, so I hurriedly got dressed, grabbed some chocolate milk and Pringles and met him at the nearest subway stop.
Zach, a mere 25 years old, has boundless energy. Needless to say, he didn't let me suffer from bad sleep and dehydration quietly. We walked all over Central Park, ate hot dogs and pretzels and tossed around a frisbee with a bunch of old friends of his that also happen to be my neighbors. We stumbled upon a DJ who was blasting some really funky dance music and over a 100 people were gathered in a in a big circle. Everybody was on skates roller dancing and laughing and mingling. It was electric and so New York. I know Zach wants to live here especially for impromptu parties like this. I could see him doing the math in his head while we were all dancing in place grooving to the beat of a different drummer.
We moved on to the best dive bar find in NYC. The Subway Inn had $3.00 beers and is about 10 steps from the N/R Lexington Avenue Station which puts me about 10 minutes from home. It's such a dive, the men's room has been broken and never fixed for at least two years. The bartender bought me a beer and I wrote graffiti on the bathroom wall for the first time. It was good and smutty. I hope Zach does move here. We always have fun and find the best trouble. He keeps me young at heart; and, as he says, "All women should have a Zach in their pocket." He's so right.
Link - 5:12 PM -
Saturday, March 15, 2003
NEXT!
Now that I’m single again, not only do I have to cook and clean for/after myself (WTF?!), I also have to run my own errands. Egads! It seems I've been missing out on colorful characters all this time. Paquita and I waited in a surprisingly short line at the bank considering it was Friday and the 15th of the month. Said short line even graciously moved fairly quickly. It wouldn’t have been possible without the assistance of one short, rude, impatient, old, foreign woman two people behind me sharply announcing "Next!" each time the "Next in Line Please" light would ding, as though the next person in line couldn't possibly figure it out on their own. They just weren't moving quickly enough for her. When I was the next I turned to her and hissed with curled lip, "I won't be needing your assistance, thanks." I wanted to pop her in the mouth. My first errand running excursion doesn’t bode well.
Link - 9:13 PM -
Friday, March 14, 2003
My Density Has Brought Me to You
After work, I met Sheila and her dear friend Rich, Captain of a Firehouse in Long Beach, CA. Rich and his firemen crew are here in town to march in the St. Patrick's Day Parade with Rich's old 51st Street firehouse. They were great fun, but I left early to get home to my beloved Paquita. I walked to the Lexington Avenue Station and made my way through the maze of people and signage before I peeked out from underneath the brim of my hat to spot him staring at me just as his 6 train was pulling in to the station. Okay, it probably wasn't him, but a slightly older dead ringer for him with a top coat and great hair. I didn't hold his stare, just kept moving in my I'm-in-a-hurry-and-it's-fu*king-colder-than-a-witch's-tit-in-a-brass-bra state of mind. After all, I wasn't waiting for that 6 train; I was headed towards another platform entirely.
So I passed him as the train pulled to a stop and walked for a moment before something made me turn around and take a second glance behind me. There he is, one foot on the platform and one in the train, and he's holding the door open despite the conductor's warnings and he was still looking at me. This time our eyes locked and he motioned for me to hop in the subway. It was a tilted move of his head directing me into the car and his eyes slightly pleaded for a brief second. His face and body language said, "Come with me. Why not?"
I thought, "Thanks, but I've got an N to catch," and kept on walking.
And it just struck me as I got further from him and the doors of that 6 train slid between us that, metaphorically speaking, I always take the N home. I could be missing out on some serious destiny. I guess that's why God invented Craig's List; because, in the cold, fast-paced life of New York City, sometimes destiny needs a little helping hand.
Link - 10:25 PM -
Thursday, March 13, 2003
Those Fools on Trading Spaces Wish They Were as Cool as Me!
Click here for before and after photos and see what $1100 a month will getcha in Astoria, Queens. This is also where I will now park my ass and eat off of my one green Asian plate in front of mindless reality television or make sweet love to Paquita. Whatever. (I can't even believe you thought that! I love her, but she's my dog, man. Seriously, you need help.)
Link - 11:16 PM -
Look Ma! I Will Survive!
Here's one of those wacky evening post I warned you about!
 Behold lemon pepper chicken, grilled to scrumptious perfection by yours truly, asparagus and baby red potatos. This, folks, is one of my favorite meals. Simple, hearty, cheap and mmm, mmm, fu*king mmm. It satisfies my Southern meat n' potatos need without clogging my arteries. Never mind that it's served up on the only plate I currently own. A single green Asian dish purchased for and used by a candle for the last two years. Buy me a rug, silverware, or pretty much anything else, and I just might cook dinner for you. You can have the plate. I'll eat off the floor. No really, it's okay, you're the Guest.
So it turns out after two years of never having to cook one single meal for myself, cooking reasonably for one person just isn't that hard. However, it turns out after two years of never having to wash dishes after cooking, washing dishes sucks Cable Guy ass.
Throwing Down Those Amish Chains
Every time the Cable Guy would go into my bedroom, my bird would whistle a catcall. I was like, "Yo, I think your ass crack is fine and all that, but that was the bird."
I’m all fancified at home now. Got me some high speed internet and some digital cable to keep my lonely heart company. Now I can leave witty posts and pithy comments any time of the day. You won’t know when I’ll be updating my blog. I’m all crazy like that.
Link - 5:17 PM -
Wednesday, March 12, 2003
The Cable Guy is hooking me up tomorrow morning. Hallelujah! I’m amazed that I’ve been able to find things to do every day and night without a television and the internet to occupy me. I’ve read, cleaned, organized, cooked and even washed dishes by hand! This must be what if feels like to be Amish.
Link - 10:12 AM -
Tuesday, March 11, 2003
I drove a car for the first time in 2.5 years yesterday. I love my car. I wish I didn’t have to sell it, but it’s an expensive and unnecessary luxury. Public transportation is where it’s at, but thankfully I still had my Cabrio handy to run an errand. I picked up Steven from my Mailbox Place, drove him to his new home and put him together. I love him with all the unconditional love a mother has to offer. I hope he has a long and healthy life and stays away from the pot unlike his father.
The hair behind a dog’s ears is so soft. If I could, I would skin them and make panties out of them, but that would be cruel.
Link - 11:46 AM -
Monday, March 10, 2003
Smooth Move Ex-Lax
Friday’s move was smooth like imitation butter. Movers Guiseppe (married with a too-tight wedding ring), Monty (drinks Pepsi Blue and once moved JFK, Jr. and Caroline and Andy Warhol and his collection of rare cookie jars) and Jermaine (strong and silent) arrived promptly at 11:00 and were done by 2:00. Four flights of stairs couldn’t slow them down. Every penny I paid them was well spent. I know this because after the movers had gone, Christian and I moved a few stray items. It was not pretty. He was in charge of carting a tall, narrow, pantry-like cabinet, and I had my arms full of other miscellaneous junk and Paquita. We bumped into everything and he had a metal bowl filled with Science Diet Small Bites ding off his head and shower the sidewalk. Yeah, I’ll pay whatever it takes.
Two true tests of friendship: (1) moving large personal objects; and (2) vacationing together. So thank you, Christian. I owe you a trip somewhere. That is, if you’re still talking to me.
Link - 10:52 AM -
Thursday, March 06, 2003
Congratulations! It’s a Boy!
Today, at 12:14 PM EST, my new baby boy was delivered. Weighing in at 45 lbs. 9 oz. (So it wasn’t water weight, after all!), Steven, named after his father, was welcomed with open arms into my world. Yes, I am the proud mother of a brand, spankin’ new, top-of-the-line Dell. Steven and I are doing fine. In lieu of flowers, please send cash. Lots and lots of cash.
Movin’ on Up! To the East Side!
I’ve gotten my new apartment painted and cleaned and ready for the delivery of my furniture. Three hunky, brawny men will be ringing my bell at 11:00 AM tomorrow and get paid a lot of my money to move nine pieces of furniture about half a block. (Note to self: Obtain several beefy male friends in time for next move.)
Link - 5:22 PM -
Wednesday, March 05, 2003
Two years ago around this time, six months before 9/11, I exited the subway and walked my two block trek to work. I crossed paths with a white, middle-aged guy with some black sooty looking stuff smeared on his forehead. I thought, "Awww, bless his heart, somebody should tell him to look in a mirror." But I walked passed him and didn't say a word.
Further down the block, I passed a Middle Eastern looking man, this time with a black sooty cross on his forehead. "Hmm, that's odd. A cross? Two guys with ashes their faces." Then a black woman, also with a cross, "What is this? Some crazy cult’s gonna rage some Waco style blitz of New York City? At least they’re a cross-cultural organization."
The closer to work I got, the more members I passed. I actually started to get concerned for my safety. Where were they coming from, what craziness were they trying to spread? I was afraid to ask and hurried into to the office. Then a co-worker approached me and she, too, had a cross! I blurted, "Oh my God, you’re one of them! What faction have you joined and what is this cross nonsense?!"
"It's Ash Wednesday," she replied incredulously.
"Ooooohhhh, and St. Patrick's Cathedral is across the street. Right. Sorry. Bless you. I guess you don’t need my blessing. Y'all are still hanging on to that old shit? What, you don’t get to go to Hell now? I don’t get it."
Today is, again, Ash Wednesday, and I can't even look Terry in the face without laughing. How can he walk around like that all day? What a dufus.
So, yeah, I'm still searching for that strange compassion, empathy, understanding thing everyone keeps talking about.
Link - 5:22 PM -
Tuesday, March 04, 2003
My last two weeks have consisted of non-stop apartment hunting, shopping, moving and painting. I enlisted Scott to join me on a mission to select paint colors, since I’ve done so solo in the past with disastrous results. He was a trooper and agreed to forgo a night out with the boys in exchange for pizza, beer and hard labor with a girl who knew him when he wore dance shoes and homemade vests adorned with appliques and puff paint. God love him; I sure do. For the living room, we chose "Good Vibrations". I hope the name is indicative of what’s in store for my future, and I’m not talking back massagers. Oh, that reminds me! Add to the list: batteries. In the bedroom, "Cedar Key" was the hue, which says nothing really. We preferred the sexy moniker: "Girl on Taupe". Before and after photos coming soon!
Link - 12:14 AM -
Monday, March 03, 2003
Hey, brother, can you spare a dime?
Moving in New York is a strange beast. After my first month's rent, security deposit and broker fee, I managed to drop $4,500. Ouch. How am I gonna afford all those little things I need like dishes and a toilet bowl brush? Walking from my old apartment to my new apartment with arms full of what makes up my life, I spotted a tiny dead mouse splayed out and forever stuck to a glue trap. Someone had tossed his lifeless body and paper casket out on the sidewalk for all the world to see. Heartless asshole. Marc said, "It'’s vermin."” "“Yes," I replied, "but what a horrible way to die: starving to death; stuck in glue."
"He probably died of exhaustion," Marc assured me.
"Oh, like that's better." I wailed.
"It's a mouse. If you had as much compassion for humanity as you do for vermin, the world would be a better place."
He's right. I need to go get me some of that, ummm...how you say, compassion.
Link - 5:30 PM -
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